My lips can't speak what the moonis trying to vanquicsh in the middle of the dark howling sky's moulin rouge.

Fight Club all over again.

I want her.
She wants the other guy.
But, the other guy doesn't want me.
He wants her, too.

I think.

Asterisk space "CHOKING, VOMITING" space Asterisk

(In writing,) When you realize you've lost, or on your way to losingdom, don't bother with the plot. Bother with the characters, the "other guy."
Annoy.
Pest.
Make him insecure.
Make everyone else lose.

Besides, the only reason why we ask people about their problems is so we realize
1. how oh, so very pleasantly, happily, good. our lives are.
2. so we get comforted.

in this world, every man is for himself.
for his mouth.
for his you know what.
for his stomach.
his 'form.'

our own personal time capsule.
Oh yah. Very much Oh yah.

Imagine a thought bubble.
See yourself typing.

Wet hair falling oh, so perfectly above the eyes, dripping.
Eyes. Heavy. Transparent. Un-there.

There is a kind of light that makes dark men fair. And fair men perfect.

Hands. Scrammering. Elgapatating. Sinuing.
Meaninglessness. Vagueness.

This is how it must feel to be God.

This is writing. Without thinking.
Summarize whole lives in a book.
Simplify a whole day in a blog post.

Make the whole world a piece of paper.

Tra-la-la-lala-lala.. Ooohh.. Ooohh.
Tra-la-la-lala-laal.. Ooohh.. Oohhh.
Drum beat.
Fade. Fade.